A/N: happy natsumikan day! and merry christmas if you celebrate! if you dont, i still hope it's a good day for you! this chapter is long, but it's coming later than i planned. sorry about that. hope you enjoy anyway. -3
CHAPTER TWO: Last night of Hanukkah and no miracle's here yet.
natsume's dare 2: climb the tree
December 18th
MIKAN
What I want for Christmas, Notebook Boy, is to get to know you. Take me to a place that feels like you.
Just like he'd requested, Mikan left the red notebook in the same place as she had last time, right away. She was a bit disappointed that he hadn't thought of anything more interesting than the one pizza shop she'd already seen, but she figured he was setting up exciting dares to come. After all, not everyone could be as fun as she was.
Koko winked at her when she came in. He didn't say much, on account of how busy they were, but that wink was enough to let Mikan know he had kept her secret for her with Notebook Boy.
And just as she had promised, she picked it up again in a few hours. Koko wasn't even there anymore, but a boy who looked almost identical to him had dutifully handed her the book.
"Anything to get my buddy a girlfriend," he'd said when Mikan thanked him. He disappeared before Mikan could barrage him with questions and interrogations.
She skipped down the street as she flipped open the notebook, hardly feeling the cold as she went along.
Mikan-the-Clue-Girl,
I'm not sure if it will feel like me, but if it's a place you want, then a place you will get. There's a park two blocks away from our high school. If you go there at around 5 in the morning, you'll be right on time.
She held the notebook close to her chest, eager to finally have a dare that would let her connect more with the mystery boy on the other end of this game.
Later, when she was cuddled up with the notebook, she was on the fortieth reread of his last entry, tracing his handwriting, imagining his pen moving, trying to visualize what he might look like or sound like. Or what his name might be…
Her phone started ringing. She had been so taken with the notebook that she'd forgotten she even had a phone. She picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Alright, spill." Sumire's matter-of-fact voice was unmistakable. Mikan just knew she had a hand on her hip. "It was disappointing, wasn't it?"
"What was?" Mikan asked, tracing the last word Notebook Boy wrote with her finger.
"The guy. I know your dream guy is a younger Will Ferrell in an elf costume. Not a 'snarly' guy."
"He's not so bad," Mikan replied.
"To be honest, I really don't know why anyone would find Will Ferrell attractive, but we're all different and we all have different interests-"
"Not Will Ferrell!" she protested. "Notebook Boy!"
"What, you met him?" Sumire sounded skeptical. "At least tell me he's cute."
"Actually, I don't know. I haven't met him. In person, that is. But he finally met me, so I couldn't be happier."
"Okay, I cave. I don't get it."
Mikan sighed. "You and Hotaru wrote that first entry for me, the clever one with the puzzle. That's what hooked him, so I'm grateful, but it wasn't me. But he wrote back, so I wrote back, and he's still biting, so maybe he likes the real me too."
"Okay… Then I'm happy for you. When are you gonna meet him?"
"Oh, who knows?" She collapsed against her pillows, smiling. "We're just playing this game for now. To get to know each other."
"You sure about that? What if he turns out to be a psycho? He could be lying about everything."
"He's not," Mikan said, thinking of Koko. "Trust me."
"I don't know about trusting you, but if you want to start a relationship with games and dares, then be my guest."
"Says the girl who refuses to tell her best friends anything about her boyfriend!" Mikan snapped.
"Hey, it's new! I don't wanna rock the boat!"
"Whatever," Mikan said bitterly. "We may be playing a little game for now, but my Notebook Boy is real, and I think we might have made a connection. I'm willing to give it a shot."
"When Imai and I made that scavenger hunt, we thought of you guys meeting pretty soon after, but whatever. Do you at least know his name?"
Mikan shook her head. "I was just thinking about that. I'm asking him next time. He'll probably send me on a dare, and then I'll find out. He's so clever, he did my dare and figured out my name right away."
"You came up with a puzzle on your own?"
"Jeez, I'm not that stupid. I can be creative sometimes."
"I'm gonna have to tell Imai about this. I don't know if she'll believe me."
With that, Sumire hung up, leaving Mikan alone with her notebook.
The call was good because it reminded Mikan that she had a phone, so she set an alarm for 4 AM. She turned off her light and fell asleep holding the notebook, dreaming of a boy with a million faces yet none at all.
December 19th
Notebook Boy was a sadist. Making a girl you don't even know and are thinking about maybe dating wake up at 4 AM is not exactly a kindness. She even considered ignoring the alarms and sleeping in. Her tired brain tried to convince her he couldn't possibly be worth it, that sleep was cozy and sweet and inviting, and all she knew for sure about this boy was that he was snarly and reserved and hated Christmas.
And that he was a good friend, had fascinating handwriting, liked parks and pizza, and that he had done her dare without complaint. It was her turn.
She forced herself up and got ready, dressing warmly for the early morning chill.
It was still quite dark when she entered the park and she opened the notebook to check the instructions again.
Go to the middle of the park, where the fountain is. There will be a tree a few feet away, the Sakura tree with the most branches. You'll know it when you see it, because it actually looks climbable, not like the rest.
Mikan headed to the fountain, which was turned off for the night. Just like he said, one tree stood out among the rest.
It is climbable, which is good, because that's my dare to you. Climb that tree.
Mikan stared at the tree. It did look more climbable than the rest, with plenty of branches to grab on to or use as footholds, but it was still tall and daunting.
But she'd already got up at 4 in the morning for this guy, so she might as well commit.
She ran at the tree, the notebook tucked into her coat. She fell a few times, her mittened hands slipping at the branches and her rubber boots skidding against the bark. Eventually she decided to peel off her mittens and shove them into her pocket so she could better grasp the branches. It was only then that she was able to hoist herself up to the thickest branch of the tree, which is what Notebook Boy had requested of her. She wriggled until she was sitting comfortably, and then she pulled the notebook out again.
Getting up there might be a pain, but once you're on that branch, look around.
Mikan looked up from the notebook and almost gasped.
The branch she was perched on was pretty high up and she was surprised she'd been able to go up so high at all. She hadn't really climbed a tree since she was a little girl.
I'm curious if you'll see what I see.
The view was amazing. The lights from the city were glinting in the distance, little dots of red and yellow flickering on the horizon. The naked trees, which had shed their leaves during the fall, formed elegant spiderwebs against the dark sky. The snow glittered, even if only lit up by the scarce streetlamps.
Sometimes I stay there until the sun comes up.
Mikan didn't mind staying there longer. She made herself comfortable and stared at the landscape ahead of her, sighing and smiling in awe.
Notebook Boy must have been beautiful. His heart was at least, for him to be so committed to a view that he'd wake up so early just to glimpse it.
Mikan almost lost track of time when the sun started rising. The first few bursts of light over the horizon almost made her freeze in shock, the way the morning cold couldn't. The snow wasn't just glittering now, it was shining and sparkling, like diamonds in a jewelry commercial.
It was magical.
He had gone out of his way to show her a little part of his life.
"Thank you, Notebook Boy," she whispered out loud, her breath fogging up with every syllable. She took her pen out to reply.
She glanced up at the sign of movement in the corner of her eye. An old woman was walking her dog beneath the trees, oblivious to Mikan's presence above her.
Mikan turned back to the notebook and saw Notebook Boy's warning.
Enjoy it while it lasts. People ruin everything.
mikan's dare 3: hit the movies
December 19th
NATSUME
"Can you move?" He decided not to wait for a response and simply pushed past the man standing in his way.
"Hey!" the man protested, but Natsume didn't turn back. He was heading to the tree to reclaim the notebook and find another dare.
He was out of the house later than usual.
He usually woke up early to see his dad.
His father worked as a flight attendant. He had a long commute, longer than most. Even if he only worked the desk for a day, he'd be gone for hours, until late at night. If he was on a flight, Natsume might not see him for a day or two. The holiday season forced him to be out much more often. When Aoi whined about it, their dad only smiled sadly.
"It's what I have to do to keep a roof over our heads," he'd say. "I'm sorry, honey."
Ever since he was a kid, Natsume would wake up at four to meet his dad and say goodbye. He hadn't seen his dad in the daylight in years. Once his father was off to fly away to Beijing or Bangkok or San Francisco, Natsume would sit for hours until Aoi woke up so he could make her breakfast. This routine grew tiresome, and eventually, Aoi would skip out on him to have breakfast with her friends or sleep in.
So Natsume ventured out, walking around in the dark hours of early morning, wandering around aimlessly until he found that park. He'd never thought much of it until then, when the whole world seemed to light up out of the dark. The first time he climbed that tree, he knew he'd do it a thousand more times.
At this point, he might as well be on his millionth time.
He was heading to the tree a lot later than he usually would, but he had to give Mikan time to have her fill and leave without getting seen. He wasn't about to trick her again and he wasn't really sure he wanted her to see him quite yet either.
After all, he wanted to get to know her too, and that was easier to do in the notebook.
Speaking of, it was nestled in the branches up in his favorite tree. He reached it in no time, having years of practice climbing those branches to keep him steady, though he was no fan of the busy-ness below him. Plenty of people were out and about at 8:30 AM, walking their dogs and enjoying the early morning crispness.
He sat for a moment, relishing the solitude of the tree before he rejoined society down on the ground.
He flipped open the book to the latest entry, relieved to see the now-familiar hand-writing. He'd asked her to lead him to one of her favorite places next, so she dutifully did.
Notebook Boy,
Just as you requested, I'll be long gone by 8:30. You're reading words right now, more than an hour and a half after I've written them. Don't worry.
Anyway, I don't know what you see when you sit in this tree, but I see magic. It's one of the most beautiful views I've ever seen. But it just makes me angry that you can look at all that and still hate Christmas! It just made me fall even more in love with the season.
I'm going to fix your hatred. Go to the Alice Movie Theater before 9:45 AM and pick up the ticket I bought for you. It'll be under the name "Notebook Boy" because I still don't know your real name. Speaking of… I think it's about time you shared that with me.
Natsume made a skeptical face. He didn't think his hatred could be cured by a trip to the movies, but since she was so insistent…
"There's a ticket on hold for…" Natsume swallowed his embarrassment, ignoring the extra warmth that rose to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the winter air. "Ahem. Notebook Boy?"
The theater employee-a girl with long, silvery hair-stared at him blankly. "Huh?"
"I'm here to pick it up."
"Notebook Boy?" she repeated. "Mikan's boy?"
Natsume nodded, irritated.
"Okay, here you go. When you're done with the movie, give me the notebook so I can pass it on." The girl handed him a ticket and then, before he could say anything else, she called out, "Next!"
Having been properly dismissed, Natsume walked away, giving his ticket a good look so he could see what he was in for.
All it said was SPECIAL HOLIDAY SHOWING, followed by the theater number and time.
Did it matter what movie it was? He was gonna see this through to the end, whatever it was. He handed his ticket to the usher, who ripped off one part and then returned the stub.
"Theater Seven."
Natsume pocketed the ticket stub and made his way to the theater. He took his seat in the middle, with a perfect view of the movie, and waited.
The previews were long and dull, and he was feeling tempted to write a premature message to Mikan, complaining about what she hadn't put him through yet. But then the screen changed and the movie opened with emotional music.
He watched as the movie entered a snowflake and a narrator started to introduce the story with rhymes. Pretty standard set-up for a holiday movie.
Then the words appeared onscreen: Dr. Suess' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
Natsume slumped over in his seat. Oh. Haha.
Some of the movie-goers "oohed" or "ahhed" in excitement, but Natsume just folded his arms, resigned to his inevitable dislike.
Whenever the movie got a laugh out of him, he'd catch himself and realign his face back to normal. The ending, though predictable, especially because he was already vaguely familiar with the story, was somewhat touching. He understood now why she'd directed him to go watch it. She must have really thought it would cure him of his Scrooge-ness, especially because she had realized he was less like Scrooge and more like this Grinch creature.
So, Notebook Boy. Now that you've seen one of the best Christmas movies of all time, I'd be honestly shocked if you still hated Christmas. Tell me: did that movie cure your Holiday Hatred?
While he was still in the theater, with people pushing past his legs impatiently, he took out a pencil to reply.
Mikan,
I appreciate the attempt, but maybe my dislike is a little deeper than you thought. The movie wasn't half bad though, I'll admit. You're not the worst at coming up with these dares. I wonder where you'll send me next. But first, my turn…
Natsume didn't bother waiting in line again. He just walked up to the window outside and slid the notebook through the slot to the other side, where the employee-Mikan's friend, probably-gasped in surprise at his abruptness.
He had to go make arrangements for Mikan's next destination.
natsume's dare 3: eat the avalanche popcorn
MIKAN
Skipping, Mikan made her way through the plaza to reach the movie theater.
"Hi, Yura!" she greeted at the window.
Her friend looked up at her for only a moment before retrieving the notebook and passing it through the slot. Through the speaker, Mikan heard her say, "He watched the whole thing, start to finish."
"Great! I knew he would." Mikan was proud of him for that. And herself for believing in him. When Hotaru heard about her Grinch idea, she'd cynically told her that Notebook Boy wouldn't make it through ten minutes of "that saccharine fest." But see? He'd stayed the whole time, just like Mikan knew he would. "What's he like?"
Yura shrugged. "If I were to put it in one word… Snarly, I guess."
"Really? Huh." Mikan glanced down at the notebook. "Well, I'll see you later, Yura. Thanks for the help!"
"Anytime, Mikan."
Mikan walked away from the theater, carefully flipping through the notebook to her mystery boy's latest entry. His name, his name, his name. She was either about to see it for the first time ever, or she'd see a dare that led her to it. Putting a name to these words would change everything… probably.
But no last names. She could only get so far here.
She started reading.
So he watched everything but still hadn't been converted? Weird. At least he liked the movie.
I value fairness, but I can't give you my name. It's too particular. It'd be way too easy to figure out who I am. But I'll give you a clue: my name is also a kind of fruit.
Mikan sighed in disappointment. She'd really been looking forward to finally discovering his name. Would he be Notebook Boy forever?
Quick as you can, take this notebook and run to the food stand at the end of the plaza. That's where I always get my popcorn when I go to the movies. I dare you to ask for the Avalanche variety. Eat every last kernel and leave the notebook with the guy at the stand. Full disclosure: I know the guy at the stand but I don't like him very much so I won't ask him anything about you. Fairness, to make up for the pizza shop.
But hurry. I'll be there to pick up the notebook in only half an hour.
Mikan smiled but before she could properly relish each and every word, she turned around so she could skip to the food stand at the end of the plaza. She could see it, even with all the people flocking there.
"Hello!" she greeted the guy Notebook Boy didn't like. "I would like some popcorn of the… Avalanche… variety."
"Really?" The worker asked.
"Yup!" She held up the notebook for him to see. "I have this. I think you know what it means."
The guy, who was a teenager himself, in all likelihood, made a face, before getting to work. "If you say so."
When he handed her the bag of popcorn, she felt her jaw fall open. "Um… Was there maybe a mistake?"
"Nope," the boy replied. "Your man covered the cost. You just have to eat it now."
Mikan now understood the urgency. Normally, eating a bag of popcorn wouldn't take her half an hour. She could easily finish it and then take off, leaving Notebook Boy plenty of time to recover the book without running into her.
"I'm supposed to eat this?"
But this was a lot of salt.
"Uh huh."
As in, salt had been poured into the bag, coating each and every kernel in white.
Every last kernel.
"He wants to kill me."
Mikan started eating, mentally cursing Notebook Boy. And the next dare she had planned for him was so sweet.
mikan's dare 4: eat at miruku's
NATSUME
"Hayate," Natsume greeted curtly. "Did she leave the notebook?"
"Yeah," Hayate replied, handing the red book over. "And she cleaned the bag too. In like ten minutes. Then she bought three bottles of water and chugged them on the spot. I think your girl might be insane, and not just because she's actually interested in you for some reason."
Natsume tried to picture Mikan-in his mind, a faceless girl-chowing down on popcorn and then pouring water down her throat. "Hmm."
"I must be tripping or something," Hayate said. "Are you seriously smiling? For real?"
"See ya," Natsume said, already walking away.
As he left the plaza, he opened the notebook.
Notebook Boy,
Okay, was that my punishment for asking your name? You can be as salty as you want, but I won't give up. So you have a fruit name too? A boy with a fruit name, huh? Could you be a Yuzu?
I'm gonna call you Yuzu.
So, Yuzu, your favorite Christmas treats are salty? Mine are very sweet.
The waitress set a platter of cannoli in front of him.
"Enjoy," she said excitedly. She'd already introduced herself as Anna when he walked into "Miruku's Bakery and Cafe" and showed her the notebook. She'd then taken him to what she called "the best table in the place," saying that Mikan wanted the very best for him. "Mikan wants you to eat every one, so make sure to eat up."
"Thanks," he said, and Anna took off, glancing at him often as she walked away.
He picked up a cannoli and continued reading.
I know you hate Christmas, for some reason, and that hatred is very stubborn, but to me, it's the sweetest time of the year. So, enjoy some Christmas cannolis (which are not filled with salt, thank you very much) and tell me about your best Christmas. I know even you have at least one.
Natsume didn't know what gave her the idea that he personally enjoyed the Avalanche. Hayate had gawked at him when he'd told him to have one ready for a girl he was talking to. It was more of a cruel prank, if nothing else. This cute little set-up in a cafe, complete with comfy seating, twinkly lights, delicious cannoli, and a very attentive waitress made him feel guilty for that popcorn dare. He'd have to make it up to her.
While he happily ate the cannoli, he replied.
First of all, I am very much not a Yuzu. Yuzus are too proper and do everything by the rules. A Yuzu wouldn't have found your notebook, because he would've gotten his winter break reading assignment way ahead of time, and not at the last minute, like me.
As for your dare…
I was ten years old. It was the first Christmas ever that my dad was actually in Japan for. He's a flight attendant, so most years he's flying off somewhere. The holidays are always busy with travel, so he spends more time in the air than on the ground. But the year when I was ten, he was there. It was a surprise. My mom woke us up and led us down the stairs and there my dad was, under the tree, in his airline uniform.
We spent the whole day exchanging presents and eating food and then we went out to the park and had a snowball fight and made snow angels. It was the most fun I'd ever had. I guess, if every Christmas was just like that, I'd feel the same way about it that you do.
But not every Christmas is like that, because that was the last Christmas that my mom was alive. She died a few months after, and no Christmas feels right without her. The next Christmas after she died, I asked Santa for only one thing: to bring my mom back. Obviously, he couldn't. Plus my dad is usually away, so my house is pretty lonely, especially around the holidays.
Look, I survived, but that Christmas was the last time I believed in Santa or miracles or wishes coming true.
Natsume finished writing and then put down the pen.
He wasn't sure why he'd told her that. Well, she'd asked, hadn't she? Surely she wouldn't complain if he just did what she'd asked him to do? But still, it was hard confessing something so personal. But somehow, despite the fact that this was just a notebook and he hardly knew the girl he was talking to, he still felt safe telling the truth.
He left the notebook on the table with the plate, sure that Anna would collect it and that Mikan would get it without a hitch.
natsume's dare 4: misery loves company
MIKAN
"Anna-chan!" Mikan ran into Miruku's, her favorite cafe in the whole world, and not just because one of her closest friends worked there. They sold amazing cannoli, among other tasty treats, and Mikan couldn't get enough.
Anna squealed and ran over to the front. "He only left like five minutes ago. Timing sucks, huh?"
"Oh, no," Mikan waved her hands. "We're just getting to know each other through this notebook first. So it's okay that I missed him."
Anna pouted. "If that's what you want. Anyway he sat over there." She pointed to Mikan's favorite table. "And he just left, so I haven't had the chance to clear the table yet. He left the notebook right there."
Mikan winked at her friend and then ran over to the table. It was a two-seater, one chair on either side of a tiny table. There was an empty platter and mug on one side, so Mikan sat herself on the other side. She closed her eyes and could imagine that she was travelling through time, to five minutes ago, where she was sitting right across the table from him.
Anna walked over, reaching over to clear the plate and mug.
"What was he like?" Mikan asked hesitantly, resigned to hearing the word "snarly" again.
Anna giggled. "Hungry." She took the dishes and walked away.
Mikan smiled. Hungry. So he liked the cannoli, did he? She opened the notebook, wasting no time.
Her smile withered away as she read. It was one thing to have one lonely Christmas, but to have to spend every holiday on your own? Mikan couldn't even imagine it. She didn't even want to imagine it.
But enough about me. Misery loves company, Mikan. Tell me about your worst Christmas. I know even you have at least one.
Mikan eagerly took out her pen. That was it? That was his dare? Easy peasy!
Worst Christmas? Try this year! My parents are in Fiji, my grandpa's in Australia. He says he goes there for the weather, but he's really visiting his girlfriend. Don't get me started. Plus, my brother got back together with his on-again off-again girlfriend so he's never around anymore. So I'd like to say my worst Christmas is this one.
Mikan put her pen down and was about to close the notebook, until she paused, glancing over at the empty chair on the other side of the table.
She sighed wearily, then picked up her pen again.
Except, that would be a lie.
You told me something personal, something that hurt. So I guess I owe you the same.
We'll call this the "Christmas of the Dolls," and it wasn't exactly on Christmas, but it definitely affected my Christmas day, so I think it counts. After all, to me, Christmas isn't just one day. It's a whole two week event, and this definitely happened during that time.
It was the last day before winter break in fifth grade. We were all supposed to bring little gifts for everyone in class. Most people brought cards or candy or cookies, but I wanted to bring something special, something that people could treasure.
So I made Mikan Dolls. Granted, now that I look back, I can see how they'd be off-putting, but they meant a lot to me. I used the peels of mandarin oranges as heads (because of my name and all), would sew little bodies and dresses, and even drew unique faces on each of them. I thought they represented me, even if they were kinda weird - or maybe because I was weird. I was pretty good at making them, especially that year. I gave everyone in my family a Mikan Doll on their birthday, and even managed to force my friends to take them.
I had friends, after all, who were all in other classes. They like me just fine, and did even back then, maybe because they understood me better. But I had trouble connecting with the people in my fifth grade class, so I thought I could impress them with some crafts.
There were twenty-three kids in my class that grade, not including me. So I made twenty-three Mikan Dolls. All with different bodies, different fabrics, different faces. Each one was different and personalized for the kid who'd receive it.
That day, when everyone was exchanging presents, I gave everyone their own Mikan Doll, setting them on their desks.
Then we all went back to our own desks and there was this terrible silence - I looked up and everyone was just staring at the dolls. Nobody said anything, but I could tell something was wrong. And then all of a sudden this boy - let's call him "M" - who everyone liked (who I wanted to be friends with the most out of everyone in class) stood up and pointed at his doll and said, "Who brought this?"
And when I stood up and said that I'd made them by hand, he said, "They're so weird!" and pushed his doll off the desk. Then everyone laughed and joined in and -
Mikan sniffled, not eager to remember that day. She'd run away right after that had happened, running out of the classroom and into the hall, face wet with tears. Then she'd waited outside in the snow for hours, sniffling like she was now, until Jii-chan came to pick her up.
"Oh, Mikan," he'd said gently. He took one look at her tearful face and smiled kindly. "These children… They just don't understand you." He held out his hand and took hers. "Let's go get ice cream."
Until that moment, I just thought I had to reach out more to fit in. I thought, at least, that I'd always fit in before then. Or if I didn't, that all I had to do was be me in order to make friends. But after that, I started feeling like Alice in Wonderland, going to school where the rules didn't quite make sense. Like, if you want people to like you, don't be yourself.
Well, being myself hasn't won me giant parties full of friends. I mean, I do have a few precious friends who I love with my whole heart, but I still don't really go to parties. Or get invited to them.
What I do, apparently, is unload embarrassing childhood traumas to a stranger in a notebook. I guess it's easier to admit this stuff to someone you've never met.
Mikan got to her feet, closing the notebook after finishing her entry. She hoped he wouldn't be too weirded out by her story of Mikan Dolls and obnoxious kids.
mikan's dare 5: go ask alice
NATSUME
He returned to Miruku's after an hour. Anna rushed over to him with a large grin on her face, pushing the red notebook into his hands. "I told her you were hungry!"
Natsume blinked at her. "Uh. Okay."
"She's so happy she found you."
"She's not forty, right?" Natsume asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Anna snorted out a laugh. "No! No! She's seventeen! She wouldn't try to trick you… um… Sorry, I don't know if she ever gave me your name?"
Natsume shook his head. "Nice try. She's not gonna get it that easy."
Anna opened her mouth to reply but Natsume was already leaving, already reading.
By the time he'd finished reading her entry, he was furious on her behalf.
She had finished, writing:
Maybe I scared you off, but if not (and I hope not), leave your next dare in Alice Park, one of our favorite places, it seems, with the patron saint of weird girls.
He sat on a bench halfway to his next destination, angrily scribbling a response, his pen digging deep into the paper and almost ripping it at some point.
He calmed down a bit during the rest of the walk. He entered the park, knowing exactly where to leave the book.
There was a statue of Alice in Wonderland in Alice Park, understandably. It was inspired by the original drawings by John Tenniel. Despite it being one of the park's biggest attractions, Natsume had never really looked at it before.
He moved to leave the notebook in Alice's lap, but he hesitated. Alice was looking down at him from her cup of tea, looking eternally confounded and bewildered, forced into a strange world she didn't comprehend.
Natsume retracted his hand, keeping his grip on the book.
No, that wouldn't do at all.
He needed some advice.
"Koko!" he called out, flying into Yome's Pizza. "I need your advice on this notebook thing." He figured the worst case scenario was a crowded restaurant and a Koko so busy he couldn't really chat. He needed advice before he left the notebook, after all, and he only had so much time.
But that wasn't the worst case scenario after all.
Natsume was out of breath, and so relieved that Koko wasn't busy, that he had talked without looking around. He only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Koko's slowly shaking head, until -
"Natsume?"
He turned around, eyes wide in horror, to see Ruka sitting in a booth, eating a veggie pizza. "Ruka."
"What notebook thing?"
Koko laughed out loud. "He was gonna tell you!"
"Tell me what?"
So Natsume had no choice but to sit down across from Ruka and explain everything from the beginning, and finished with his current dilemma. He completely ignored Ruka's face journeys, from sad that Natsume didn't tell him earlier to undoubtedly proud of his friend for making this step on his own to again a little sad to hear about Mikan's plight.
"What I wrote was kinda bad… I mean, it wasn't bad, but I don't think it was enough."
Koko plucked the book from the table, ignoring both Ruka and Natsume's protests. "Well, let's see. 'I wish I could go back in time and end the evil little twerp who called you weird, and every other kid who joined in-' Jeez, Natsume, this is really detailed. You have a dark mind-"
Natsume grabbed the notebook back and then ripped that page out. "Which is why I won't give it to her. It's not like it's gonna help her at all."
Ruka smiled sweetly. "You're concerned for her." He looked so touched it was sickening. "Oh, Natsume, I'm really-"
Natsume groaned. "Nooooo…"
"Oh, it's so cute how protective you are of your paper girlfriend," Koko teased, voice smarmy. His smile was wider than usual, like he was incapable of restraining it.
Natsume shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend."
"She's… she's kind of your girlfriend, no?" Koko replied, not believing him for a second.
Ruka stared at Natsume, jaw ajar. "Is he smiling right now?"
"No," Natsume turned to Koko, intent on ignoring Ruka from now on. "It's just a game, Koko."
"Well, now I'm convinced that she's your girlfriend," Ruka chimed in. "Game or not, she has you smiling. That's not an easy thing to accomplish with you."
"See?" Koko pat Ruka on the head. "He agrees. We outvote you."
"Whether or not I have a girlfriend is not something that can be decided democratically. So you two stop that right now -" Both of them grinned at him, unblinkingly, Koko looking maniacal and Ruka looking so happy for him he was close to tears. "No, stop it -"
Then, the door opened and the bell above it rang to signal to Koko that a customer had entered. All three of them glanced up to see Hayate and Rui entering the store, a pile of fliers in their hands. They made a beeline for the corkboard near the register and started ripping off the fliers that were already stapled there.
"Hey," Koko whined, waving his hands dejectedly. "Come on guys, you can't just come in and tear the stuff down!"
"This shit is old," Hayate commented, holding up a flier advertising an event that happened in May. "We're doing you a favor and cleaning house for you."
"You're not cleaning anything," Koko corrected, pointing at the papers all over the floor. "You're pretty clearly littering."
"We're making room for the new," Rui said, sending him a wink before he pinned one of the new fliers under his arm onto the corkboard.
"After all, this is time-sensitive," Hayate agreed, tapping the paper for emphasis. They gave each other a high-five.
"There's a show?" Ruka asked, smiling in polite interest.
"Of course there is," Rui replied, pointing to the words on the paper.
"Is it a secret show?" Koko asked, leaning in close to Hayate.
Hayate shoved him away. "It's for me and Yakumo's band. We're playing in an underground concert for the Holidays. It just so happens to be the seventh night of Hanukkah tonight."
"And?" Koko cocked his head to the side.
"And we're celebrating, idiot!"
"And I'll be there to add some beauty," Rui said, flipping his orange hair back over his shoulder.
Yakumo and Hayate were part of a band, with Hayate being the lead singer. Natsume thought they sucked, but they had some fans for some reason. They'd formed the band a few years ago and were still together, so something must have been working for them. Maybe it was their strange impulse to headline Hanukkah shows that took place completely underground. Their air of mystery was what they had going for them, in Natsume's opinion. It was exciting to sneak down under that bakery and through the winding tunnel until they found a vibrant and lively party, even if the music was shit.
And Rui only tagged along with them because he was dating Yakumo. He liked being a supportive boyfriend and advertised their band more than Yakumo ever did.
Ruka stood up and left the table to look over the flier. He seemed to read every word until he looked up with concern at Rui. "You left off the address."
"What part of 'underground show' do you not understand?" Hayate snapped. "And do you not see the loaf of challah clearly depicted in the picture here?" He pointed to the horribly xeroxed image of something that barely resembled challah. "It's as clear a message as any, especially to our fans."
"You have fans?" Natsume asked sarcastically.
"Shut up."
Rui shrugged. "I don't know how, but they'll get a full house. They always do. That challah is all they need."
Natsume sat up straight at that. "A full house, huh?"
Rui nodded. "Every single year for the past four years."
"What can I say?" Hayate bragged, folding his arms. "The weirdos love us."
"This is tonight?"
"Did I not just say seventh night of Hanukkah?!" Hayate groaned in exasperation. "When else would it be?!"
"I heard you, Hayate," Rui responded, looking disappointedly at Natsume.
Natsume ripped the flier off the corkboard.
"HEY!" Rui and Hayate exclaimed in unison.
Natsume paid them no mind, looking over the paper in his hand. "I need this."
"What, are you coming?" Hayate asked, sounding hopeful.
"No," Natsume replied curtly.
"I knew he wasn't gonna come," Ruka mumbled sadly, before Natsume went out the door to head to Alice in the park again.
natsume's dare 5: through the looking glass
MIKAN
Weirdos are cool, Mikan. You just need to find the people who will get you. I can prove it.
Mikan, standing by the Alice statue in Alice Park, could not tear her eyes off the blue flier in her hands. "Seventh Night of Hanukkah," it boasted.
Happy Hanukkah, Notebook Boy said.
Mikan ran home, her mind buzzing with all the implications of this flier. He wouldn't be there, would he? No, probably not. But then why? His dares kept getting meaner and meaner!
She entered her apartment morosely, relieved to see Tsubasa sitting by himself on the couch. She sent him a SOS with her eyes and then rushed to her room. He wasted no time before jumping up from his seat and following her.
"It's a punk show!" Mikan said mournfully, handing him the flier.
Tsubasa looked it over and his face lit up with glee. "A Jewish punk show!" he exclaimed.
"You have to help me get out of this!" Mikan collapsed onto her bed. "Maybe I could tell him I'm sick? Or I could tell him I got bit by a spider? No… that's stupid. You could tell him I got bit by a spider!"
"Or you could just go?" Tsubasa suggested with a shrug.
"No, absolutely not. I can't go."
"Why not?"
"Because it's…" Mikan glanced at the flier again. "It's at two in the morning! That's impossible! I'm never up that late and Jii-chan would never allow it-"
"So?" Tsubasa shook his head. "You're just coming up with an excuse. You'll just stay up a little later than usual. Besides, Jii-chan isn't even here. This show sounds like fun. And you love fun. When did you stop loving fun?"
Mikan shoved a pillow over her face and groaned. She took a deep breath and then spoke as fast as she could so that maybe Tsubasa wouldn't understand her. "Because I'll do something stupid and embarrassing and then he'll realize that I'm nothing like the girl in his head and he'll stop writing to me."
Tsubasa picked up her red notebook. Mikan peered up at him, lowering her pillow. "You've already done plenty of dares for him. What makes this so different?"
Mikan blushed. "I think I'm starting to like him. It's just like me to ruin everything just as it's getting good."
"Ruin?" Tsubasa asked, but before he could say more, Misaki entered the room, immediately pulling Tsubasa into an embrace.
"Hey, guys!" she said, cuddling into her boyfriend's shoulder. She turned to him. "Can we sleep on the roof again?"
Tsubasa turned to smile at her. "Of course."
"You guys are sleeping on the roof again?" Mikan asked, sitting up, still hugging her pillow, trying to be mannerly and offer room for her guests to sit.
"It is very cold but extremely romantic," Tsubasa informed her as he settled on the bed with his girlfriend in his lap.
"I don't even know how you came up with it but I couldn't be happier. You're so smart-"
"You're smart," Tsubasa said, cutting her off with a kiss.
Mikan cleared her throat. "Or you guys could come with me?"
Both Tsubasa and Misaki turned to look at her, neither of them smiling or looking particularly enthusiastic about her proposition. "And leave the house?" Tsubasa asked. He shifted to explain to Misaki. "My sister's nervous about clubbing."
"You don't like clubbing?" Misaki asked, voice concerned.
"I don't know. I've never been."
"What do you usually do for fun?" she asked sweetly.
Tsubasa rolled his eyes and spoke right as Mikan was opening her own mouth to respond. "Ugh, she makes little dolls and plays board games with our grandpa."
Mikan glared at him.
"Make her into a normal teenager, Misaki."
"I got this," Misaki said, standing back up even though she had just sat down a moment ago. "Mikan, I know everything about clubbing. I have had a wild college experience so far. So allow me to prepare you for what will probably be a magical experience."
"More magical than Candy Cane Lane?" Tsubasa asked with sarcastic wonder, mocking Mikan.
"Hey," she protested. "I don't sound like that!"
"First, we'll find you something to wear," Misaki said, ignoring the both of them. She effortlessly moved to Mikan's closet and gracefully opened the shutter doors. She started sifting through the articles of clothing. "What's something you've always wanted to wear but never had the guts?"
Mikan bit her lip. "I might have something…" She stood up and walked over to where Misaki was standing, patiently watching her. She pushed most of the hangers over until she reached the end of the rack.
"Oh, wow," Tsubasa said. "Kinda scandalous. I wouldn't let Jii-chan see you in that."
"Well, I wouldn't either. I would never wear this in public."
Neither Misaki nor Tsubasa said anything. They both just eyed her meaningfully, sly smirks on their lips.
"No! I wouldn't! I couldn't!"
Misaki picked up the hanger with the dress. "Mikan, honey. Tonight is the night."
December 20th
Mikan walked through a foggy and dark room, music pounding in her ears, the only light coming from the glow-in-the-dark paint off other party-goers' faces. They smirked and eyed her with what she could only interpret as judgment, looking her over from head to toe and then walking past her.
Nobody walked up to chat, but they all stared, and Mikan had to hold her breath to maintain the courage to keep moving.
Then a figure approached, holding her little red notebook.
"Mikan?" he asked, voice distorted and bizarre. He was wearing a suit and a little hat, a black mask hiding his face. He stepped closer, head cocked to the side in curiosity.
"Oh, my God, it's you," she said, breathlessly. She couldn't keep the grin from overtaking her face. "Yes, I'm Mikan!" She held out her hand, but he simply peered down at it through his mask.
"You're Mikan?" he asked.
When she nodded, he started laughing. Laughing. "No, no, no, absolutely not," he said.
"What?" She watched helplessly as he turned away. "Wait!"
"Go play board games with your grandpa, Mikan. You don't belong here."
"What?"
"It's no wonder you need this thing!" He lifted up the red notebook. He threw it, and Mikan followed it with her eyes, unable to stop its descent, until it disappeared into the black. "Nobody wants to know you in real life! There's nothing enticing about you!" He turned his back on her, pointing a thumb in her direction as he addressed the other partiers. "Can you believe this girl? She's so weird!"
Then they all stood - the whole crowd, and Notebook Boy - pointing and laughing, the horrible sound of their giggles making her hair stand on end. She could feel those same tears running down her face, just like in fifth grade-
She sat up in bed, her alarm ringing for 1 AM. She was entirely out of breath, her head pounding with pain, both from waking up at such an ungodly hour and from the scariness of her dream.
Mikan got out of bed, eyeing the dress that Misaki had hung on her door. "Don't chicken out," she'd said.
This night is gonna change your life, Notebook Boy had promised. Come on. Trust me.
Mikan knew the Notebook Boy from her dream wasn't the one who wrote to her, the sweet boy in real life. She took the bravery while she could, while it was still in supply, and changed into the dress, pulling her red majorette boots on too. She wasn't entirely skilled at makeup, but she tried some of the tricks that Sumire had taught her in the school bathroom, and she was pleased with the final result. She sent her friend a vague text of gratitude, even if she wouldn't see it til the morning.
She left her house and in too short a time she was in front of a bakery.
If you're staring at challah, congratulations. You made it.
Mikan looked from the flier to the bakery, proudly showing off its Hanukkah decorations and an ad in the window for challah bread.
A young man walked out of the bakery, dressed all in blue, boa and gloves and glitter and all, which contrasted with the shock of his long orange hair.
"Hi," she greeted. "I'm looking for a club."
"What's your drag, bubbelah?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"What's bringing you down on this fine evening?" he rephrased, smile ever present.
"Does something have to be bringing me down?" Mikan asked.
"It does if you want to get inside." After another moment with no answer, he leaned in closer to her. "Are you really telling me that all is right in your world?"
Mikan shrugged. "It's Christmas, and my parents are gone."
His hand darted to his heart in sympathy. "My word! Sweetie, I am so sorry." His face was solemn when he asked, "When did they pass?"
Mikan laughed at the miscommunication. "Oh, no! They're not dead! They're in Fiji!"
The man rolled his eyes and waved her away. "Girl, get out of here." He walked past her over to where a set of stairs were leading downwards into the ground, probably towards a basement of some kind. He looked like he was about to disappear down them and take her last chance of getting in with him.
"No!" she called out. "I have to get in there!"
"Nope, you most certainly do not."
"I'm meeting someone!"
"Not in there you're not," he replied, a defiant hand on his hip, challenging her to keep begging him.
"No…" she agreed. "But the guy in there will lead me to another guy, and…" The man raised a bewildered eyebrow. "Well, I don't want to play board games with my grandpa for the rest of my life!"
"Then give me some pain!" he pleaded. "I need a real drag. What is so important -"
"I've never been kissed!" she blurted out.
"How old are you?" the man asked skeptically.
"Seventeen," she confessed.
"Oy," he huffed under his breath. Then he bent over where the stairs were and unlocked and lifted up the metal grate that was blocking the entrance. Then he elegantly pointed down the metal stairway. Suddenly, music was pouring into the street from the space below. "Girl, get down there and rectify your situation."
"Thank you!" Mikan said, gripping her flier.
"Down the rabbit hole," he said, nodding down.
And so Mikan did, going down the stairs and trying not to notice the rapid beating of her heart or the ache in her lungs. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she moved through a brick-lined tunnel, which finally led to the club.
It was not nearly as dark and dim as it was in her dream, but it was still hard to see clearly. There were plenty of people all around - crowds, one might say, either dancing or standing around chatting or drinking from plastic cups. There was a live band playing on the stage, passionately headbanging along with the music. She was so distracted by the sights and sounds that she didn't notice that she'd run into someone, who spilled their drink.
"Um, excuse you?" they spat at her. "Rude!" And then they stomped off in a huff.
Mikan backed away, trying to get away from people, only to bump into yet another person.
"Hey!" the girl cried out, obviously drunk.
"That's my friend!" another girl pitched in, seemingly even more intoxicated.
"Sorry, sorry, don't mind me," Mikan said, backing away into the other direction.
"No, you know what? We're not gonna put up with any of your shit-"
Mikan turned away, eager to escape the onslaught, only to run into a faceful of someone's drink, which had tipped over when she'd moved. She gasped in shock but the person just threw their cup down in anger.
"Look what you did!" he snapped, shaking off his wet hand, obviously untouched by the fact that Mikan's face was dripping with whatever had been in his cup. "I just got that drink!"
Mikan ran for it, running past people until she saw a door, which opened magically to reveal a dirty bathroom and a person exiting it. Mikan darted inside, ignoring the indignant cries and protests of people who had been waiting in line.
"Sorry," she whispered, closing the door behind herself. She couldn't wait in line. She'd just end up crying in front of all those people. She made her way to the sink and splashed cold water over her face, just to get the sticky alcohol off her cheeks. Then she patted herself dry with toilet paper, looking over the grungy mirror in front of her. There were photos and stickers and writing all over it, mostly in marker. Phone numbers, reminders, swears, curses of political figures…
Get back out there, Mikan :)
Mikan blinked in surprise. There, in red marker, was Notebook Boy's handwriting. The smiley-face was the most touching part. From the constant snark and irreverence in his entries, he didn't really seem like the smiley face type. But here it was, staring right back at her. It made her heart warm to know that he had thought of her with so much care and concern that he'd even anticipated this moment of crisis.
She took out a Sharpie from her bag and wrote a reply. She tucked the pen away and took a few deep breaths. She finally emerged from the bathroom, smiling brightly at the first girl in line. A few other people sent her some nasty looks, but she was determined to look straight ahead instead.
The band on stage wrapped up one song and then a strangely familiar boy took the mic. She could've sworn she'd seen him somewhere…
"Just for those of you who aren't aware, somehow-" he spoke into the mic. "A band of Jewish rebels were driven from their temple. But they rose up, took it back, and then partied for eight straight nights!" The crowd cheered. "That's the spirit of Hanukkah! Fighting back against your oppressors, not letting other people define you! What's more punk than that? Are you ready to punch oppression in the fucking face?!" At the responding scream from the crowd, the boy raised his fists into the air triumphantly.
He and his bandmates started the music, energetic and punky, and the crowd immediately began dancing along.
Mikan realized now why Notebook Boy had sent her here.
You just need to find people who will get you.
She smiled, looking around herself and taking in her surroundings in a new light. She felt her bag, could sense the notebook through the fabric of it. He had left her instructions to find somebody and give them the notebook with her response. It would be good to find the person ahead of time so she wouldn't have to-
"Sweetie, you're not gonna get kissed standing on the sidelines." The man from outside was suddenly in front of her, hand still on his hip, shaking his head. He grabbed her hand and then led her through the hoard of dancers, ignoring her protests. "Excuse me, coming through!" Once they were deep in the crowd, which felt much hotter than the sidelines, the man leaned in close, smiling brightly. "You show them what you got, okay?" he said encouragingly. He then left her on her own.
The music was still pounding, and everyone around her was dancing while she stood there awkwardly. She was sticking out like a sore thumb just standing around, so she moved back and forth a little to the beat. When one person glanced at her, she felt self-conscious, so she started moving more, focusing on her legs and arms.
In no time at all, the music had swept her away and she was dancing energetically with the music. Moving her arms and legs along with the tune, she somehow found herself surrounded by party-goers, who were cheering her on. She was moving everywhere and then even joining arms with the other dancers, cheering and chanting along with everyone else.
"This seems like it'll be fun," Tsubasa had said to her. "You love fun."
She loved fun. She loved it so much! Her fears from before seemed miles away, as distant as Fiji and Australia and the roof of her apartment building. All she could feel now was her blood rushing in her veins, her cheeks warming with energy expended, the sweat building up from the dancing, her breath rapidly entering and exiting her lungs, the skip in her heartbeat when she thought, Thank you, Notebook Boy-
She was having a blast, dancing with everyone she turned towards, one on one and with the whole crowd, it seemed. The song went along and then she gasped in surprise as she was lifted into the air by a few other partiers. The crowd seemed to cheer and she laughed with excitement. The sweaty and hot air was hardly bothering her anymore. She could hardly focus on any one thing at all because her mind was too busy taking it all in, the fun and the dancing and the music and the laughter - the giggles bubbling in her throat as she was hoisted up. And then when she was placed back on the ground, the man in blue placed a crown gingerly on her head.
"You're the queen, honey," he said, almost as if he was proud of her. She could have cried.
She bowed in gratitude, her smile never leaving her face for a moment until-
"Mikan?"
Mikan blinked out of her stupor and looked through the fog to see a boy her age walking over to her.
"Mikan!" he said again when he was right in front of her.
"Oh my God," she said, staring at him in awe. "Notebook Boy?"
"It's me," he said. "Mochu. We went to elementary school together!"
Those brown eyes, the buzzed hair in the same style as back then…
Mikan stared at him in horror. "Huh?"
"I knew it was you! It's so random seeing you here, isn't it?"
'Who made this?'
"Dope moves just now," he said with a grin, pointing at her.
She looked down at her dress, suddenly embarrassed that she was wearing it. The neckline was too low, there were too many sequins, her boots were too red, too much everything.
"You… saw that?"
He glimpsed down at her bag and then furrowed his eyebrows. He was still smiling, and Mikan could feel the mockery in her bones when he said, "Did you bring a notebook to a club? That is so weird!"
'They're so weird!'
He never stopped smiling, not even when she shoved past him. She ran for it, like she was running for her life.
No no no no no no.
She ran out of the club, out of the tunnel, up the metal stairs and onto the snowy, slippery sidewalk. She immediately hailed a taxi, which slowed to a stop immediately. She rushed to it, but she slipped and fell, her boot slipping off in the snow piled up on the side of the road.
"Mikan!" she heard Mochu call, but she couldn't look back at him. She left her boot there and jumped into the taxi, telling the driver her address and keeping her eyes down so she wouldn't look up and see Mochu again.
I failed you, Notebook Boy. I failed you and I failed Hanukkah. I didn't stand up to my oppressor, and I…
I forgot to leave the notebook behind.
Mikan looked down at her bag, her notebook sadly peeking through, She pulled the crown off her head, not feeling very much like a queen at all. She was undeserving of the title. All she wanted was to go home and cuddle up with her brother, be hugged by her mom, get words of encouragement from her dad, and play board games with her grandpa.
This was too much. It was all just too much.
Why did Mochu have to be there?
So how are you gonna find me now? You're not. That's how.
And you shouldn't. Because I'm not just the "Weird Girl". I'm a loser.
Mikan finally got back home, but was immediately alarmed to see her apartment door was ajar.
Ajar? Why was it open? Was someone inside?
She hoped it was just a matter of Tsubasa not shutting the door all the way behind him.
She tentatively walked inside, alarmed at the dark and the general feeling of disarray in the living room. A chill went down her spine, like a warning that she should get out while she could.
She looked around the corner and caught a glimpse of Tsubasa in the hallway, who caught her gaze and was instantly shaking his head at her, eyes wide: a warning, a nonverbal SOS.
Mikan ducked behind the dining room table, about to reach out and grab the phone to call somebody - anybody - until -
The chair she had hidden behind made a horrible scratching sound against the wooden floorboards.
From under the table she could see a familiar pair of shoes suddenly enter her view.
"Oh no," she cursed under her breath before jumping up and excitedly greeting, "Jii-Chan! You're home! How was Australia?"
Jii-chan did not look happy, to say the least. His lips were a tight line and his eyes were narrowed with anger.
"You're grounded," he declared. "Forever!"
A/N: the chapter title DOES fit, bc the party takes place at 2AM, so it's technically the eighth day. a bit of a reach but let it happen